


Cell Relationship

by AthenaRave



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Fluff on the horizon, Friends to Lovers, I don't follow your rules, New 52, Quinnshot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaRave/pseuds/AthenaRave
Summary: Having a breakdown and strapping your dead ex's face on your sometimes bed buddy is a bit hard to come back from. Can Harley and Floyd become friends again? Weirder things have happened to the squad before.





	1. Beginning is a very good place to start..

**Author's Note:**

> I love Quinnshot and I write a lot of 'How Harley and Floyd interacted after they started dating' Because in New 52 it sure seems like they did in that big ass time gap! Rant for another day though, I wanted to take a different route from my blog a do a pre get together story arc. So any comments, idea's you may have are appreciated since this is my first time putting my stuff on here!

It was quiet. So fucking quiet. It had been for weeks. No matter the humming, or tapping, or chatter of the staff that barely gave her a glance anymore besides the slide of her meal or cappuccino, it was always quiet now. Harley would stare at the wall that separated her and Floyd, but wouldn’t knock on it, wouldn’t even say his name anymore. The only image in her cell now was the pinned up face of J, because it was the one thing to remind her of the new normal. She was utterly alone, her friendship with Deadshot now ruined because she couldn’t stand the thought of Joker being gone that she just tied the merc up without a second thought! Before, she felt she could talk to the other about anything, but now the nerves under her skin had her freezing, pulling out her pigtails in frustration. Harley couldn’t find it in herself to be irritated about how her hair fell flat, hiding her face from view. Her mind getting darker with each passing day, the whispers of the old familiar voice in her head becoming louder, clearer, and today was the day Harleen took center stage in her thoughts

‘Oh look, the murder jester is upset?’ The tone clinical, cold, and highly unamused as it continued, Harley clenched her teeth ‘Upset your boyfriend got offed by someone you killed with such ease ? Or are you upset your fuckbuddy won’t say a goddamn word to you?’ He had a right to not want to talk to her, she wasn’t worried, she didn’t care! She brought her knees up to her chest, nails digging into her thighs. ‘You can tell me Psycho, I’m here to help, I’m here to make you-‘

“Harls, I hear you gasping over here. Calm down..” The new, but still familiar voice was quiet, tired, and more of a relief than Harley cared to admit, she cracked open her eyes expecting to see blonde hair and a neatly done suit, but only a blank wall greeted her. Only then did she notice her rapid breathing, how her lungs burned with emotions she didn’t want in her. How her legs were welling up with blood from her nails which she pulled back with a stuttering breath. Floyd was still there, counting on the other side of the wall, the numbers in the back of her mind as she felt her heart start to slow down in its beats. She could think again.

“F-floyd? Thought you were not wantin’ to talk to me anymore.” Harley finally forced the words out, though her throat felt like sandpaper as she stood up and sat by the wall. It took a moment until she heard a slide on the other side of the wall, and an exasperated sigh.

“Doll. I know you’re crazy, and yeah I wasn’t ecstatic about being your next crafts project-“ She couldn't help the minor wince at the brutal word choice, expecting nothing less. “But It’s gonna take more than that to have me at a loss.” The humor was stilted, and a bit tense, but overall Harley could tell Floyd was trying. Maybe he even wanted them to be friends like they were before. That was pushing it, but she couldn’t help but hope. 

“..We’re not ok. But Shot I’m, I am sorry.” Harley’s head thumped as she leaned it back, her eyes landing on the Jokers lifeless face adorning her wall. She was upset, and she didn’t even think it was Shot once the face was on. It was painful, but true that she admitted it. Even if Floyd went silent at the apology, that didn’t stop the light hope at the possibility they could be friends once more.

So as the lights went out in Belle Reave, and her eyes were heavy for the first time in days, she curled up in her stiff bed that had come to be comforting. After throwing her mess of red and black hair into a halfway decent bun, she looked back at that wall that separated her and Floyd. The white blankness seemed deceiving in that it could shut out any noise, and she called out gently “Night Shot..” She couldn’t stop the smile on her face when she heard a faint knock, and a tired response of something that sounded awfully like “Night Doll..”


	2. Doe, a deer, a bluuuue deer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They couldn't keep them locked up forever. Who else would do the dirty work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm so happy about the kudos and such that I got. Also my friend has been looking over my writing and is being a absolute saint, so I hope y'all enjoy it! Again comments about anything are appreciated, because I would love to see y'alls opinions on how the story is going.

The next day Harley awoke to the sound of her cell shuddering open with a hiss, and hopped out of bed with a plastered on grin. “Well hiya fellas!” The staff, who were armed to the teeth as per usual, paid her almost no heed as they pointed their rifles at her. She could hear ruckus starting to crank up in Floyd’s cell, as the man never went without punching at least two of them out. That thought had her grin turning more mischievous, an idea growing easily in her head.  
“Quinn. Come with us and don’t be stupid, you know the drill.”

Harley licked her lips teasingly, putting her hands behind her back as she shrugged “Ya know my memory is shit nowadays boys,” she giggled softly before she launched into the thick of the group. It was exhilarating, shorter than she would have liked, but crushing one flunkies skull into the floor before they could grab her? The rush was perfect to break the dull thrum that has been their most recent stint of captivity. As they dragged her out, she caught a glimpse of Floyd coming out of his cell as well. He had a developing black eye, but was still allowed to walk on his own at least.

“Hey Shot! How many did ya conk out? I got two!” She could have sworn she heard a snort from his direction, since the men surrounding her were blocking her view as she was carried off.

“Losing your touch Harls? I got four.” That dry sarcasm was something she missed, and the laugh that escaped her was loud as she squirmed from the hold on her . Arms pinned behind her back, feet barely dragging the floor as they moved her along the narrow hallways.

“Oh come on! It’s not my fault they remembered to bring tasers into my room!”

The banter kept going like that until they were brought into the meeting room. A room that always looked more like Harleen’s old college classrooms than anything out of what she would expect in Belle Reave. The staff shoved her into the faux classroom while she giggled and grinned, skipping off as she found her footing and sat on top of one of the many desks in the area. Leaning back she stared at the door, seeing that Floyd just strutted in the room, a shade of a smile on his own lips as he sat in front of her, kicking his feet up onto the desk with a sigh.

“Doll, you are gonna get them to actually shoot you one of these days.”

Harley shrugged, resisting the urge to play with Shot’s hair like she used to, it didn’t feel entirely right to act like she had the right to have that familiarity. At least not yet. The rest of the team was there too, or at least, the remaining team. Diablo’s spot was still slightly charred in the back, the burnings of one woman’s face now seemed all too easy to identify. Now though, there was a newbie instead, in the corner of the front row

Her hair was ice blue, spiky but not at all sharp, and everything about her spelled out bitch. Though from how Croc was now holding her, maybe Harley was wrong.  
“So who’s the Ice Cream Queen?” Finally pointing her out with a flick of the wrist, Deadshot perked at the question a fraction and followed her direction, making a dismissive huff. Before the woman herself could respond though, even colder blue eyes locking with Harley’s, they all froze when the clacking of heels echoed throughout the room.

She almost didn’t think about seeing Waller again. After their shocking agreement about Harley being let loose to kill Puppeteer all seems like a bit of fantasy as the devil herself looked like nothing had changed. With her fresh pressed pants suit and permanent scowl, Amanda Waller still had her blood running cold at what she would demand this time.

“Glad to see you all haven’t found a way to kill yourselves. I don’t have time for that goddamn cleanup, now..” She trailed off and eyed Harley up for only a moment before holding up a folder, covered in a multitude of red stamps “Time for your mission Squad.”


End file.
